


What Happens In Europe, Stays In Europe

by Jacques_Carneses



Category: Australian Rules Football RPF
Genre: (kinda), Anal Fingering, Boys Holiday, Bromance, Come Eating, Comeplay, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Ibiza, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Rutting, Sexual Experimentation, Sexual Identity, Straight Boys, Straight!Ollie, Straight!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacques_Carneses/pseuds/Jacques_Carneses
Summary: When Ollie Florent & Will Hayward get back from a night out in Ibiza during their off-season trip, things escalate when they're forced to share a room.OR: my favourite AFL pairing basically having a humping session while drunk and sweaty, but it's all very no-homo.
Relationships: Oliver Florent/Will Hayward
Kudos: 7





	What Happens In Europe, Stays In Europe

**Author's Note:**

> Please Google these two boys if you are not familiar with them. I LOVE their friendship, so I wrote them as is, meaning in this story, they are simply best mates, who are straight, with girlfriends. They still get freaky though, because I am trash.

Ollie’s watch read 3.34am when he looked at it in the back seat of the taxi, silently chuffed with himself for remembering to adjust it to Ibiza local time. There came a snore from next to him, as Ben had his head slouched on Ollie’s shoulder, his sweaty face sticking to the damp, sweat-soaked fabric of Ollie’s T-shirt. It was gross, but he was too drunk to care, and he turned to Will on the other side of Ben, and the two shared a chuckle at their mates extreme inebriation. Not that Ollie and Will weren’t hammered themselves. They must’ve had, what, a dozen vodka & Red Bulls between them? They came up with the arrangement themselves, each would take turns buying the round so they wouldn’t have to give up their spots on the day-beds under a palm tree, with a clear view of the stage where various DJs and dance ensembles had performed throughout the evening.  
But the system meant they were basically on a conveyor belt of drinks, one after the other, to the point where Ollie wasn’t actually sure there was any point during the day and night where he didn’t have a drink in his hand.  
A husky, “oi”, broke through the silence of the taxi, and Ollie looked up from his phone to see Will cocking his head and raising an eyebrow with curiosity.  
“S’mum, just letting her know I made it through one night without getting my drink spiked,” Ollie replied. Will rolled his eyes; it was typical of Ollie, the mama’s boy, to be dishing his mum a drunken text to let her know her adult son was alive and well around the other side of the world. Will got it. His mate had become even closer to his mum since his dad’s passing, so he never tried to judge him too much for how he depended on his mum compared to all his other mates.  
“Why? Your mug’s so ugly no one would even wanna date-rape you,” Will slurred, and they both burst out into laughter as Ollie just shook his head at Will. It wasn’t unusual for Will to take a jab, though if Ollie was being honest, he was deviously pleased that for once Will had thrown one his way. Roasting each other was a hallmark of Will and Tom Papley’s friendship, or the ‘bromance’ as the Sydney Swans media department was trying to drive home, and it’s not that Ollie was jealous, per se, but he did see that Will was different with him than he was with Tom. So if Will taking jabs at Ollie meant he was opening the door for Ollie to take that place in Will’s life, he’d take it. 

Little did Ollie know that his insecurities about their friendship were for naught. There was no doubt in Will’s mind that Ollie was his best mate, his closest mate, and his most trusted mate. They were drafted together, they won their first games together, and they just re-signed contracts to the Swans together. Will couldn’t fathom being at the Swans without Ollie. For all the times he and Tom had spent together, laughing and taking the piss and agreeing to do crazy shit for the club’s media department, Ollie was his stable, grounding presence, the thing that most reminded him of home, which was weird because he was from Adelaide and Ollie was from Melbourne, and they’d never met before they were both in the same group at the draft combine in October of 2016. But Ollie was the familiar face he knew when he turned up day one at the Swans after being drafted, and it was the face he’d seen nearly every day since.  
He was upset Tom was leaving. It was like a big slice of fun was being carved out of the heart of the playing group, but it wouldn’t change Will. He still needed to be laughing, smiling, joking his way through life as a footballer, and that would be the case with or without Tom. 

The taxi finally pulled up at the front of their villa. Ollie managed to un-stick Ben’s head from his shoulder, enough to use both arms to gently slap the blacked-out Ben on the cheek, and help guide him out of the car onto his own two feet. He stood upright, his eyes heavily-lidded and glassy, and Ollie just looked him in the eye as if he were a coach.  
“You’re alright, c’mon,” and he managed to just catch Ben before he fell to the curb and caused himself a serious injury, a professional athlete’s worst nightmare, before they made their way to their villa. Will flicked through the notes in his wallet to give to the taxi driver, before they both linked one of Ben’s arms around their shoulders and carried him inside through the front door.  
“FuUUuck it’s cold,” Ben slurred loudly once they stepped foot inside the mostly-concrete and marble villa, air-conditioner on full blast from when they were pre-gaming earlier in the heat of the Spanish afternoon.  
“Sssshh, fuck, the Toms are asleep!” Will whispered to Ben, referring to Papley and Tommy McCartin who had pussied out at a lousy 1am to hit the hay. At least Ryan Clarke had the excuse of having a 7am flight to Amsterdam to attend to. The villa was pitch black, save for the flashing lights of the air-conditioning system, the plasma screen mounted on the wall and the lights of the fridge and microwave in the little Greek-styled kitchen. Will fumbled in the dark looking for the light switch, leaving Ollie patiently waiting and holding Ben up, one hand placed on Ben’s sweaty lower back, the fact he could feel the moisture emanating through Ben’s T-shirt didn’t bother him. He’d seen worse, and most importantly, his mate needed him.  
Trips with the footy boys were different to any other trips he’d taken with his old school mates. There was an added layer of protection and responsibility, because they all knew they had to rely on each other to keep each other safe and out of trouble, and they’d all feel the ramifications if they failed. So as drunk as Ollie was, to the point he could barely hold himself up and he thought the pitch-black room was spinning slightly, his main priority was getting Ben safely to his bed. And then getting his own drunk ass to bed ASAP.

He heard the sound of glass smashing on the tiles, followed by a, “Fuck!” Ollie rolled his eyes, reached back into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flicking on the spotlight and suddenly illuminating the entire spacious entry hallway. Just coming into the light was the sight of Will, on hands and knees, picking up his phone, checking his screen to make sure there were no cracks, and blowing off the dust from the floor.  
“You are such a fuckhead hey,” Ollie whispered while chuckling.  
“Shut up!” Will hissed as vocally as he could given their whispers. Ollie used his phone light to turn the actual light for the hallway on, and then put both hands on Ben’s shoulders and marched him up towards the staircase to the bedrooms. Unfortunately, the first room up in the hallway belonged to Ollie, and in his drunken stupour, Ben charged towards the door and just burst in. 

“No-no-no-no-no-no, not yours mate, fuck – Ronks hold on, fuck you’re so heavy for a midget,” Ollie whispered in frustration, trying to pull Ben back towards the doorway and back out into the hall. But the momentum of a blacked-out drunk who basically turned to dead-weight was pretty difficult to stop, especially once he was in see-bed-dive-on-bed mode. Ollie just rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew he was beat. Ben wouldn’t be moving now that he was splattered across the top of Ollie’s bed like he’d been hit by a car.  
Ollie just stormed out in a strop, back into the kitchen where a shirtless Will had discarded his tee onto the kitchen floor and was heating up two-minute noodles in the microwave.  
“Fuck sakes, Ronks is gone… on my bed,” Ollie grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so cooked hey,” he said smiling at his mate, his face and tone lifting instantly. Will loved that about Ollie, that ability to always turn a shitty mood into a positive on a dime. Will just stared at Ollie in a mixture of awe and intrigue. Maybe he was extra fucked and didn’t wanna get too deep, but Ollie really was such a good vibes type of mate. It was almost impossible to be sad or angry or stressed when around him. He was really just happy to be here in Ibiza with Ollie at this moment. 

Ollie, seemingly oblivious to Will’s lingering gaze, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and disappeared around the corner again. He re-emerged thirty seconds later with a gigantic white quilt slung over his shoulder, his shirt, too, now gone, in just his charcoal denim shorts, not even held up by a belt anymore. Will noticed Ollie was neither frustrated nor drunk. He just looked… peaceful. And not many people had that quality. His mate had just passed out on his single bed, and he was now setting up bed on the leather couch in the living area, and he was just so unaffected by it. For a baby-faced guy who lacked any real book smarts, Ollie’s maturity really was beyond his years, but Will needed to snap out of it. Why was his mind so curious about his mate right now? It’s not like he never knew any of these things about Ollie!  
“What are y’doing?” Will said, mouth full of strings of sickly-yellow noodles.  
“Just gonna sleep on the couch,” Ollie said nonchalantly, hurling the heavy quilt down onto the couch and arranging the pillows to his satisfaction.  
“Nah, no chance,” Will muttered assertively, surprising Ollie into looking his way. “No chance.”  
“I don’t mind hey, just for one night, this couch is comfy as fuck anyway,” Ollie replied, too drunk to deal with Will’s drunkenness, because he almost certainly knew that if Will was sober he wouldn’t be making a deal out of the prospect of someone sleeping on the couch. Will himself had done it many times when he’d had too much to drink at Ollie’s place in Sydney.  
“M’serious, it’s cold as out here, you’ll get, like, new, ahhhh neu-phoria, uh,” Will just gave up on what he was saying mid-sentence to shove another huge spoonful of noodles into his mouth. Ollie just burst into laughter, his face scrunching up and doing that squinty thing with his eyes. It got Will’s attention, because no one’s whole face lit up when they laughed quite like Ollie’s did.  
“Pneumonia, you dickhead, and it’s not my fault you left the air-con on today,” Ollie said after he finally collected himself, but Will was totally serious. He was so pissed he seemed to be focused on nothing except his noodles, and making sure Ollie did not settle for sleeping on the couch.  
“Just sleep in mine, it’s a king’s remember,” Will said, flashing Ollie a cheeky wink, reminding Ollie of the successful game of rock, paper, scissors that led to Will getting the room with the king-sized bed. And if Ollie was honest, that was a hard offer to refuse. It really was freezing cold out here – they’d officially succeeded in turning the villa into an icebox, and he was so drunk he wanted nothing more than to melt into a pile of comfy sheets and a spongy mattress. He didn’t even need to give a spoken acceptance of Will’s offer. He didn’t bother picking up the big quilt, that was a problem for the morning, just left it on the couch and turned to head to Will’s room, giving his mate a nod on the way out.  
“I’ll be up soon,” Will said, finishing his noodles, humming a random tune he’d had stuck in his head the entire trip and kicking his feet back and forth with contentment. 

When Ollie walked into Will’s room, the first thing he noticed is that, despite it being just their second night there, the room smelt distinctly… Will. He couldn’t describe what that was exactly, but he’d spent enough time with Will to know what his scent was. He walked over to the bedside table, where he got his official answer: Guess. ‘Typical’, Ollie thought to himself. Will was nothing if not driven by his designer labels. If Ronks was the lightweight, and Ollie was the mama’s boy, then Will was the uptown boy of the bunch. Ollie sprayed a touch on himself out of curiosity, and immediately regretted it as he felt light-headed and dizzy, crouching down onto the bed. Maybe it was the exhaustion of their big day of walking and drinking and partying, but as soon as Ollie made contact with the mattress, it was like it was hugging him, enveloping him in it’s comfort and inviting him to sink into it. And that he did. In nothing but his denim shorts, he rolled over to the far side to save room for his mate who the bed actually belonged to, and then turned his phone off, consuming the room in darkness, save for the crack of light in the door from where Will was in the kitchen.

Ten minutes later and Ollie was almost asleep, eyes so heavy and his head still spinning the more sleepy he grew. He heard the creak of the door, and Will crept in, trying to be discrete, Ollie could tell by the way he was tip-toeing on the floor.  
“M’still awake, you don’t have to be quiet,” Ollie mumbled, but didn’t bother turning around, implying Will was not to disturb him or do anything that would jeopardise his sleep. Will slid his shorts down by the waistband so he was in nothing but a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs, readjusting his package as he did so. He noticed Ollie was still in those denim shorts, which Will found absurd.  
“Dude, I don’t care if you sleep in ya jocks, doesn’t bother me.” The remark startled Ollie into rolling over and facing Will with widened eyes, despite his sleepy state. “Y’know, jus’ saying, fuck denim when you’re trying to sleep..” Will was becoming flushed on the spot, so he was thankful it was dark and Ollie couldn’t see anything except a blurry silhouette of Will preparing to join him in the bed.  
“Yeah, true,” Ollie said, and he had to admit, he was getting a slight irritation on the insides of his thighs from the denim rubbing against each other as he tried to lay there and get to sleep. So he popped the button on the shorts, zipped down the fly, shucked them down his legs, and threw them across Will’s body until he heard them flop onto the floor, probably right alongside Will’s. He was so wasted he couldn’t even remember what underwear he had on, and the lack of lighting was doing him no favours there, so he just hoped they weren’t an embarrassing pair that he usually saves for quiet nights in at his place in Sydney or his family home in Melbourne.  
“Night bro,” Will said, breaking the awkward silence after Ollie had stripped down.  
“Night Wilba.” 

Will woke when he felt the arm creeping around his ribs, up towards his chest and almost trying to clutch at his pecs. His initial thought was that he was being attacked, before he quickly remembered that it was just Ollie in the bed. Typical needy Ollie, he thought to himself. He was used to Ollie’s PDAs by now, be it with his girlfriend, or his mates. Even a dog sitting at the local café in Bondi he’d feel compelled to give a hug. The guy had a lot of love to give, and given everything that had happened with his father passing when Ollie was only eighteen, it just made Will and all the rest of his mates want to be there for their mate as much as they could. If that meant letting him drunkenly spoon him, then so be it.  
Will reached his hand back to pat Ollie on the arm, half as a sign of his approval of this spontaneous spooning session, and half in the hopes that he might wake the guy up and he could go back to sleep. When his palm came into contact with Ollie’s arm, he instantly felt the goosebumps covering every inch of Ollie’s olive-toned skin, then he became aware of Ollie’s slight shivering through his heavy breathing. And it hit Will: Ollie didn’t want no damn affection – he was freezing cold! Will felt like an idiot, even contemplating letting his mate spoon him when the solution was as simple as getting another blanket. As he tried to nudge Ollie’s arm out from around his torso in an effort to get out of bed and find a blanket, he was startled by Ollie pulling him back into his body heat out of reflex. Ollie was deceptively strong as he held Will in place subconsciously. Now Will was just getting flat-out annoyed. He wanted to go to sleep, and he also wanted to get Ollie another blanket, but he couldn’t do that if he was being held captive as the little spoon!

“Oi, Ol” Will whispered, garnering a slight exhale from the sleeping drunk lad. “OI, OL!” Will grunted much louder a second time, jolting Ollie out of his slumber. As Will held up his phone light in Ollie’s face to wake him up, he could see Ollie’s caramel eyes adjusting to the light, blinking rapidly as he licked his dry lips and looked around in confusion.  
“Wha –“ is all Ollie could get out, before Will interrupted.  
“You’re freezing dude, d’ya want another blanket?” All Ollie could do was rub his eyes, still so out of it and not really caring that he was cold because he was so comfortable feeling the body heat of his team-mate against him. Will took that as an affirmative, and began to unpeel himself from Ollie’s limbs, before his head started spinning and he realised just how drunk he himself was. His head crashed back down on the pillow as he groaned in frustration, and Ollie seized his moment. He curled his leg back around Will’s calf, and returned his arm around Will’s body, locking him in place again as Will succumbed further to the realisation that he was more drunk than he thought – too drunk to get out of this bed at this moment in time.  
“Jus’ stay here bro,” Ollie said. “I’m fine here.”  
And Will was glad Ollie was fine here. Because Will was feeling dizzy, feeling the oncoming persperation, a mixture of cold sweats, drunken humidity and embarrassment from his current predicament. Then he felt Ollie’s hips subconsciously grind into Will, no doubt not even realising what he was doing. Hell, Ollie was so drunk he probably thought Will was his girlfriend and they were back in Sydney in bed like they would be every other night. But the uncomfortable feeling of another guy’s crotch pressing against Will was the final straw. He quickly flinched away, rolled over so he was facing Ollie, then grabbed Ollie’s shoulders and manhandled him into turning over so they were spooning again but facing the opposite direction, this time with Ollie as the little spoon and Will with his limbs locking Ollie in place.  
“If we’re gonna do this, no way in Hell am I the little spoon asshole,” Will whispered in Ollie’s ear, not fully comprehending just how close he was to Ollie that his lips were caressing Ollie’s ear. Ollie shuddered as he felt his mate’s warm breath against his ear, and it was weirdly calming. Calming enough that Ollie thought this would be a perfectly fine way to get back to sleep, so he shut his eyes, relaxed into his pillow, and prepared to sleep that dizzy, drunk blur in his mind away.

And then he felt it. Both boys felt it. The twitch of Will’s cock, pressed right up against Ollie’s thick bubble butt. Total silence fell over the room. Neither of them could see each other, but they both had their eyes wide open, Ollie staring into the darkness in total disbelief, Will cringing with embarrassment. It remained silence until his cock twitched again, a furious blush coming over Will’s cheeks, and this time it twitched repeatedly, throbbing at the contact of an arse resting against it, even if it was the arse of his taken, very-much-straight mate.  
“Fuck,” Will muttered breathlessly, not really sure what else to say yet it seemed to sum up everything he was feeling in this exact moment. Drunk, horny, embarrassed, uncomfortable, weirded out. “I’mma turn over now,” he said jokingly, trying to alleviate the tension in the room with some humour, and he felt Ollie’s face break out into that cheesy smile without even being able to see it.  
‘Phew, crisis averted’, Will thought to himself when he confirmed that Ollie was giggling at Will’s awkwardness – he knew he would be roasted for this at future nights out. He was about to casually roll over away from Ollie and forget this mess ever happened, when he felt Ollie’s arm reach back, awkwardly clutch at Will’s lower back, not only keeping him where he was but actually pressing him further into Ollie’s own back.  
“What are you doing mate,” Will said seriously now, legitimately confused by Ollie’s behaviour.  
“M’cold,” was all Ollie mumbled in response. But it did little to quell Will’s arousal. He hadn’t had any in weeks, and being overseas, where they were encountering loads of hot girls every day, plying themselves with enough alcohol to fill a brewery, was only increasing his desire to get off. Will knew Ollie was manipulating him into spooning him because he was cold, and he knew he couldn’t get out of bed or he’d probably tumble onto the ground he was so drunk himself, so he knew he was stuck here. It was just a matter of what he was going to get out of it for himself.

He experimentally thrust his hips forward in time with his cock throbbing yet again, almost testing the waters to see what response he’d get from Ollie. He got nothing. He thrust again, this time with purpose, aiming his crotch at Ollie’s arse directly. Still no response.  
“You awake?” Will whispered.  
“Yeah,” came the single word reply instantly. Was Ollie okay with this? It seemed too good to be true for Will to have a willing arse he could sit here and rut against to his total satisfaction, even if the arse belonged to his best mate he had zero attraction to. Just thinking about it was enough to have Will impulsively thrusting against his hapless mate, who gasped sharply in surprise but again, did not protest. The less resistance he got from Ollie, the more confidence Will got. He now had the upper hand. Quite literally, in fact, as he pressed his hand deeper into the slightly furry chest of Ollie, holding him in place as he book-ended the smaller lad. Once he felt Ollie’s body was basically under his control, he began thrusting with more purpose and authority; lifting his hips off the mattress to actually drive into the curve of Ollie’s backside.  
“Oh, shit, ow – Wilba, fuck” Ollie was muttering as he tried to comprehend what exactly Will was doing, and why he was letting it happen with such ease and nonchalance.  
“Just – just go with it,” Will said. “I’ll stop soon.”  
Ollie didn’t know why he couldn’t stop right now, as why the fuck would Will want to sit here and rut off against his best mate? That sure as hell wasn’t on the top of Ollie’s bucket list. And yet he was compelled by Will’s movement, by the hand pressing firmly into his chest, holding him in place and establishing the unspoken ground rules that Ollie was to just take it. 

It felt distinctly different to Ollie when he noticed Will was hard. It was an unmistakable feeling he himself was familiar with from all the times he’d dry humped his girlfriend with a rock hard cock inside his shorts. Only this time the feeling was even more direct, as Will was in nothing but a pair of tight whities, and the rock hard cock was pressing against his own arse. He clenched his arse-cheeks instinctively, wanting to deter Will’s hungry cock, and in his own way, trying to difuse this situation before it got any more out of hand. Because they were both very drunk, and Ollie thinks even stapling his skin would feel good in his present state of light-headedness. And god, the contact felt good.  
Once he was satisfied Ollie wasn’t going anywhere, Will slid his hand from Ollie’s chest, down to his abs, his fingers playing with the smaller man’s treasure trail before his hand almost drifted over the bulge in Ollie’s underwear. He had the sense to avoid it, because, just, no. He did not want anything to do with Ollie’s cock, which he roasted him for on a regular basis in the changerooms because of it’s below average size (were Ollie not the first to bring it up, he wouldn’t dare make torment him over it.)  
He rested his hand on the curve of Ollie’s hip, where his waist met his arse, and in this moment, feeling Ollie laying still and willing while Will basically used him as a rag-doll, he felt enormous love for his mate. Nothing romantic of course, but just the love of a brother. He knew he’d be in Ollie’s life forever, and vice versa. They’d be at each other’s weddings, their kids would grow up together, they’ll attend Swans reunions together. As his mind was flooded with this sudden sentimental appreciation for his mate, Will had no control over his body as he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss on Ollie’s neck. 

Ollie shivered again, and that response alone only made Will want to do it again, so he pressed his lips in the same spot, and this time stayed there. He savoured the feeling of embrace he was hopefully giving his mate, his drunken state allowing him to ignore the salty sweat that had gathered in the crease in Ollie’s neck.  
“Fu-fuuuuck, Wilba,” Ollie was muttering in a daze, his free hand scrambling back to try and grasp Will’s hair behind him, struggling to catch his breath and form a proper sentence. “What are we doing, ughhhh,” Ollie sighed.  
“Just, fuck, I dunno mate,” Will spoke into Ollie’s neck, his cheek now resting against Ollie’s skin. They’d never been this close before. If both were being honest they’d never been this close with any guy before. It was totally new territory and that scared Ollie, and that fear aroused Ollie, and that fear within Ollie gave Will adrenaline, and that adrenaline was pulsating through his veins as he continued to thrust into Ollie, using his hip muscles to create a steady rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of two young guys gasping and panting and groaning and moaning and grunting, and the sounds of skin on skin as their thighs slapped against each other, and the sounds of hands running smoothly over the plains of each other’s bodies. 

But it wasn’t enough. Well, not for Will. Ollie was overwhelmed, lost in the unexpected pleasure mixed with confusion and embarrassment. But Will just wanted more. He craved actual contact – his cock thrusting against bare skin, he wanted to cover that skin with his come like he would at home with his girlfriend, when he’d pull out of her arse and release all over her lower back.  
He decided in that moment that while far from ideal, Ollie would suffice as a girlfriend substitute. Even he could admit that Ollie had the arse to make a damn fine girl. Will halted his grinding movements to run a soothing hand over the wide expanse of Ollie’s arse cheeks. Thick and plump but muscular, two solid globes that Will could actually see his cock thrusting between now that he thought about it. Without thinking, his nails dug into the waistband of Ollie’s underwear, pulling them down quickly, without asking Ollie’s permission, who grunted and winced in shock and a bit of pain as Will didn’t really know how rough he was being with his mate.  
“I wanna feel – feel your skin, c’mon, help – I need to feel it,” Will was spewing word vomit that Ollie couldn’t understand, nor did he want to, he just remained pliant, able to be used however Will needed to use him in this moment. Without Ollie’s assistance it was a struggle, but Will finally got Ollie’s briefs down to his mid-thighs, enough that when Will ran his hand down Ollie’s butt cheek, he felt everything: the warm skin that had been confined in his sweaty briefs all day, the light hairs scattered across the globes, the heat and sweat as he ran his finger down the crease of Ollie’s crack, immediately pausing once he felt the thicker hair resting there that made him realise just what he was doing.  
“Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said all of a sudden, breaking the relative silence, save for Ollie’s heavy breathing in anticipation and bewilderment.  
“I know, it’s – fuck,” was all Ollie could get out.  
“We don’t talk about this to anyone, okay?” Will said more sternly now, breaking out of his desperation act momentarily to bring a much-needed dose of reality to this situation. He didn’t need to see or hear anything from Ollie – the simple nod he felt from the lad he was spooning was enough to know that this was a one-off, that would never be spoken of again, and that most importantly would never damage their friendship.

Will tried to censor the word ‘friendship’ in his mind as he resumed his thrusting, sinking into the amazing feeling of his raging boner pressing against the warm, sweaty crevice of Ollie’s ass crack. The word only reminded him of how wrong this was. No, wrong wasn’t even the right word to explain this. How fucking insane this was. But what happens on a Euro trip stays on a Euro trip, so he reached down to grab his cock and direct it to Ollie’s crack. All Will had to go on by way of illumination was his iPhone’s spotlight app. He shone the light down towards Ollie’s arse to give himself a better sense of direction, and he was in a trance as he caught his first proper glance at his mate’s ass. How hairy it was, brown hairs covering his crack from top to bottom, nestling at the base of his balls, and swirling with moisture around a virginal pink hole. It was not attractive to Will. Not even remotely appealing. It should’ve been enough to deter him from going anywhere near it.  
Yet he pointed his cock between those cheeks, and moaned as he swiped his cock up and down the crack in one fell swoop, losing his breath at the feeling of the sensitive tip of his cock sliding against the sweaty hairs of Ollie’s crack, catching on the tight furl of his mate’s hole.  
Ollie stills at the contact, suddenly overcome with a feeling of self-consciousness. No one had ever looked at or felt his arse like that. It was by far his most sensitive, intimate area. He’d always wanted his girlfriend to play with it, maybe a tongue in his hole during a blowjob, but that’s about it. Yet here was a cock – the cock of his best mate – teasing it and threatening to go beyond teasing. He didn’t know how Will would react to it, until he heard Will’s voice break the silence.  
“Fuck, that feels so good ay.”  
And it was music to Ollie’s ears.

He pushed his arse back to meet Will’s cock, forcing a more pressing contact between his rim and the cock desperate to fill a hole.  
“Y’know, if you were a chick right now I’d be fucking you,” Will said teasingly, again trying to bring some levity to this truly bizarre situation both boys found themselves in. Ollie just chuckled, relaxing a little, before replying, “Yeah I know.”  
And if Will was honest, he started envisioning it. Fucking Ollie. Pretending he was a girl. Would his hole be warm with velvetty walls inside like a chick? Would his hole clench around his cock and pulse when he was coming like his girlfriend’s? Would Ollie moan and want to be kissed and have someone breath into his mouth and lick his tongue so it was wet and messy and sloppy? Or would he maybe wanna be choked, or have his nipples pulled or his ear bit while he was being pounded into?  
All these thoughts ran through Will’s mind as he picked up the pace, hand holding Ollie’s left arse cheek spread open so he could rut his cock against all of Ollie’s crack, cock still teasing the tight little hole, the slick and sweat from his taint providing plenty of lubrication for Will to continue grinding relentlessly.  
He was so out of breath, and beads of sweat were dripping from his face onto Ollie’s chin and neck, barely even registering with the boy below who was still so drunk and now so high from the new and exciting and foreign pleasure of a cock thrusting against him. “Oh shit,” Will uttered as he felt that familiar tingle in his stomach, “I’m gonna come Ol, fuck”, and Ollie, for the first time, tilted his head back to look at Will, their eyes meeting and they didn’t even need to say a word to know they were sharing the same thought. They’d knocked down so many barriers of their friendship in this one night, given themselves to the pleasure of it all and the sense of unfamiliarity and adventure, but they hadn’t thought about this part. Would coming make this suddenly that much more gay, and therefore that much more difficult to dismiss as one night of delerium?

But as Will was going through these motions, he noticed Ollie’s face change, and Ollie simply stared into his eyes, and nodded, turning back over and resuming his pliant position. That look alone – that look of compliance and willingness and even submission – was enough to make Will lose total control. His thrusts became sloppy, his cock not even capable of keeping up a consistent rhythm against Ollie’s crack, and every muscle in his body seemingly clenched before he released, cock spasming.  
“Fuck mate, I’m sorry, I’m coming, fuck!”  
Ollie squeezed his eyes shut, cringing as he prepared for the inevitable, unsure of what to expect. Then he felt a warm, gooey pelt against his crack, like soft darts of come splattering the most private and untouched part of his body. Rope after rope shot out of Will’s cock and fell against Ollie’s arse, a few landing at the top of his crack and dripping their way down, a few landing on his firm cheeks in little puddles, and one giant rope burst out and landed directly on Ollie’s hole, making both boys moan simultaneously, one at the sight of it, the other at the feeling.  
“Shit!” Will heaved out, panting heavily, body shaking as he continued to milk his now-softening cock of every drop of come. Ollie lay there, still and silent, save for some trembling which he couldn’t even explain. As Will looked down at his mate, and shone his phone light down towards Ollie’s arse, it finally dawned on him just what they had done. As he saw the strings of milky white come pooling all over Ollie’s crack, he moaned at the sight. It was undeniably hot, seeing his come soaking the hairs around Ollie’s crack, oozing into his tight hole and forming a little pool in the rim. 

“Fuck, it looks just like a pussy mate,” Will said curiously, Ollie cringing at the searing humiliation of such a statement. He knew Will didn’t mean it in that way, this was just as mind-blowing for Will as it was for him. The longer Will stared at it in total fascination, the more removed he became from the reality that it was his mate’s hairy ass that he was staring at. So lost in the intrigue and sensation of it all was he, that he had no hesitance to bring his finger forward, musing aloud, “I wonder if I could – oh!” And then it all happened in a blur. His finger was just experimentally pressing against Ollie’s tight, wet hole, and then his finger was plunging forward, sinking deep into Ollie’s warm tunnel all the way up to the third knuckle of his index finger. Ollie shrieked a feminine scream, and it startled Will, who withdrew his finger almost all the way out until only the tip remained inside Ollie.  
“Sssshh,” Will whispered as he leant down and breathed against Ollie’s ear. “There’s a house full of boys remember?” All Ollie could do was nod restlessly. “D’you wanna wrap this up?” Will was serious. He would end this right here, right now, roll over and go to sleep – he was knackered after his orgasm and it might be best for Ollie in his current state too. But Ollie didn’t say yes. He didn’t say no, either, but he continued to writhe against Will’s body, seemingly chasing the teasing contact the tip of Will’s finger was giving him inside his hole. 

Will just smirked, knowing that was further material he could potentially take the piss out of Ollie for in the future (although him coming in five minutes just from rutting against his mate like a sixteen year old boy would probably be the reciprocation.) He wanted to give Ollie a semblance of the pleasure he had given him, so he plunged his finger deep into Ollie again, drawing a moan from the tanned lad who had never experienced anything like it before. Will, out of instinct more than any sort of logic, quickly added a second finger into Ollie’s hole and was surprised by how easily it welcomed the added burn. Then he remembered he’d covered Ollie’s hairy crack in come, so he had plenty of natural lubrication, and the thought of pumping his own come into his best mate had Will’s cock twitching back to life between his legs. He scissored his fingers with a look of concentration, amazed at the feeling of Ollie’s hole stretching open, loosening around his fingers with each sideways thrust, hooking his fingers left and right within the boy, no idea what he was doing but figuring it out along the way and loving the reaction each experimental move of his fingers would do to Ollie.  
He wondered if it was possible to turn Ollie on any more than he already appeared to be. He withdrew the two digits inside of Ollie, swiping them up and down Ollie’s crack, collecting the remnants of warm come that were smeared across all the hairs, and returned them to his hole, this time with a third finger in the mix, stretching Ollie’s hole impossibly wide to what he’d imagined possible. With three fingers driving into Ollie, it allowed Will to penetrate him deeper, the three fingers sinking so far into Ollie that his hand was pressed against his taint, his thumb rubbing circles on his tight balls.

Ollie, who up to this point had been silent, biting his lip to try and stifle the surreal pleasure he’d been experiencing, could no longer be the silent partner. At the deeper penetration and added stretch, his mouth fell open, a guttural moan, hoarse and broken and strained but also euphoric, fell from his lips. “Fuck, Wilba, I need more,” came the desperate plea.  
“You like that don’t you Ol,” Will taunted, tongue sticking out. He leant down so his cheek was pressed against Ollie’s. “Say it, say how much you like it, c’mon, no judgments here. We won’t talk about this again, remember?”  
And fuck, if Will wasn’t being antagonistic, but Ollie was so caught up in the pleasure he really didn’t care. “Yesss I fuckin’ like it, dickhead, keep going!” Will just giggled, but obliged, spreading his fingers open within Ollie and probing inside his anus, only stopping once he thrust his fingers into a little nub deep within his arse that made Ollie still completely.  
“FUCK!” Ollie yelled, and Will was too curious to even care that they were now making a racket. He curiously thrust his fingers into that same spot again, and Ollie’s whole body shook, his breath catching in his throat as his mouth fell open but nothing came out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit Will, do that again,” Ollie panted. And who was Will to say no to that? He thrust his fingers again, this time building into a pattern, repeatedly hitting Ollie’s prostate and making the boy’s cock twitch with each movement.

Wanting to compound this pleasure for his mate, Will lifted Ollie’s leg in the air, still on his side but now with more room to work his fingers deep inside his hole. The new position gave him exactly what he wanted – he was now fucking into Ollie with intent, his hand rapidly thrusting in and out of the boy whose hole had previously never been touched, yet here he was, sloppy and open, wet with nothing but his best mate’s come as lube.  
“Shiii–iii–iii-tttt,” Ollie tried to get out, stuttering into syllables with each thrust of Will’s fingers. It was supposed to be a warning, but Ollie was so taken aback by the overwhelming and unexpected urge to come that he didn’t have time. His cock, flopping around with each upward thrust of Will’s fingers, neglected and untouched all night, simply pulsed and exploded with three small ropes of come. The first two shot out and landed on his tanned, chiseled abs, while the third dribbled out of the tip and down the shaft. Ollie didn’t know it was possible to come without your cock being touched, nor did Will if his stunned silence and awe was any indication. He wrapped his hand around his cock, collecting the come that had dripped down and used it as lube to stroke his cock and bring it to life. It was an outer-body experience to be stroking his flaccid cock mid-orgasm, but he was able to milk a fourth string of come from his cock, falling onto his hand.

That would normally gross him out, but as he felt Will’s fingers creating a squelching sound as they remained inside him, and the come drying and becoming sticky all inside his ass crack, he realised a bit of come on his hand was really not so bad. He don’t know what possessed him to do it, but he felt he had to get one back on Will, so he reached his hand up to Will’s face and said, “Here.”  
Will just grimaced, but he understood Ollie’s perspective, and reluctantly stuck his tongue out to lick up the come from Ollie’s hand. His face twisted as he struggled with the salty come of his best mate, but he swallowed, and even stuck his tongue out to prove it, earning an exhausted laugh from Ollie.  
“Fuck, that’s rank,” Will said, and if that wasn’t a sign that the fun was over, Ollie didn’t know what was. He rolled over onto his front, allowing Will to awkwardly nudge his fingers until they slid out of him. He tried to subtlely catch a longer glimpse at Ollie’s hole clenching and quivering around nothing, still needing to be filled, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his mate would be trying to replicate the pleasure Will had given him tonight when he was by himself, behind closed doors. Then the thought made him cringe, and he realised that if he hadn’t made a mistake tonight – it was fun, and they both got a much-needed release, after all – then he’d definitely done something he would not want to do again, that’s for sure.

Forgetting how drunk he was, Will clambered out of bed, stumbling a little and trying to regain his balance as Ollie gave a hearty laugh at his idiot mate. Then he disappeared, leaving Ollie laying in bed, naked, save for the briefs bunched around his thighs, skin sticky with sweat, arse sticky with drying come, a slight burning sensation between his ass cheeks. He ran a finger down between his legs, out of curiosity more than anything, and just the tip of his finger coming into contact with the slightly puffy and swollen and sensitive rim of his hole was enough to convince him it was a bad idea. When Will came back with a wet flannel, he handed it to Ollie, and said, “Don’t worry it won’t hurt for long”, as if he could sense Ollie’s pain and uncertainty.  
“How the fuck do you know that, sicko?” Ollie said with his signature smile, albeit a slightly faded version.  
“Done anal with the missus before. She got over it in like, a day,” Will said, facing away from Ollie as his mate reached down between his legs and gently wiped the wet flannel over his hole, and up and down his crack, wincing from the sensitivity.  
“Fuck that, tomorrow’s Elements, I spent $200 on tickets for that event, I’m not missing it ‘cause of this.”  
Will just cackled with laughter, and eventually Ollie’s frustration at the short-sightedness of this night of experimentation made himself laugh too. “Stupidity is infectious ay”, and Will just nodded knowingly.  
“Maybe that should be your new Insta bio,” Will replied.  
“How about ‘this night never happened’, how’s that for an Insta bio?” Ollie said grinning wide, his full vibrant smile returning as he pulled his briefs back up and threw the flannel across the room, landing on the floor.  
“Deal,” Will said, and the boys cracked up laughing as Will reached over and switched the lights off, immersing them in darkness with nothing but the sound of laughter filling the room.

\- - - - - 

Ollie awoke to unmistakable smell of bacon. The bed was empty, and he could see the divot in the mattress where Will had obviously slept. He wasn’t so much as horrified by the previous night’s events as he was dumbfounded that they happened, confused that a part of him that would allow that to happen obviously existed within him all along. Then came the guilt, that he’d effectively cheated on his girlfriend, with his best mate, no less. And then, oh God, it was his best mate. And then he heard muffled shouting and laughter coming from the kitchen, and remembered there was a house full of boys, and Will probably told at least one of them, and if he didn’t, they probably heard it all. How the fuck did he allow this to happen?  
He slowly got dressed into his swim shorts, and headed down into the kitchen. Tom McCartin had his headphones on, listening to tunes as he dove into a bowl of cereal, barely acknowledging Ollie’s appearance; Ben Ronke had his head down on the bench, struggling from a hangover no doubt after his drunken ass only made it home because of Ollie and Will. And then there was Will, cooking bacon and eggs at the stove beside Tom Papley. Of course, beside Tom Papley, Ollie thought.

“Hey boys,” he said nervously. Ben sluggishly looked up and greeted Ollie with a half-baked smile; McCartin, blaring Fleetwood Mac, remained oblivious to Ollie’s greeting; Paps simply asked, “D’you want your eggs fried or scrambled Floz?” And Will simply looked over his shoulder, and smiled. He didn’t need to say anything. It was a smile that was simply reassuring. That they had nothing to worry about. They’d shared a special night. Weird as fuck, yes. But special. They’d take it to their grave, but remember it for what it was. That’s what the smile said.  
And then Will said, “Oh he probably doesn’t want any, he’s all filled up aren’t ya?” And Ollie just rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. That damn best mate of his…  
Ollie’s watch read 3.34am when he looked at it in the back seat of the taxi, silently chuffed with himself for remembering to adjust it to Ibiza local time. There came a snore from next to him, as Ben had his head slouched on Ollie’s shoulder, his sweaty face sticking to the damp, sweat-soaked fabric of Ollie’s T-shirt. It was gross, but he was too drunk to care, and he turned to Will on the other side of Ben, and the two shared a chuckle at their mates extreme inebriation. Not that Ollie and Will weren’t hammered themselves. They must’ve had, what, a dozen vodka & Red Bulls between them? They came up with the arrangement themselves, each would take turns buying the round so they wouldn’t have to give up their spots on the day-beds under a palm tree, with a clear view of the stage where various DJs and dance ensembles had performed throughout the evening.  
But the system meant they were basically on a conveyor belt of drinks, one after the other, to the point where Ollie wasn’t actually sure there was any point during the day and night where he didn’t have a drink in his hand.  
A husky, “oi”, broke through the silence of the taxi, and Ollie looked up from his phone to see Will cocking his head and raising an eyebrow with curiosity.  
“S’mum, just letting her know I made it through one night without getting my drink spiked,” Ollie replied. Will rolled his eyes; it was typical of Ollie, the mama’s boy, to be dishing his mum a drunken text to let her know her adult son was alive and well around the other side of the world. Will got it. His mate had become even closer to his mum since his dad’s passing, so he never tried to judge him too much for how he depended on his mum compared to all his other mates.  
“Why? Your mug’s so ugly no one would even wanna date-rape you,” Will slurred, and they both burst out into laughter as Ollie just shook his head at Will. It wasn’t unusual for Will to take a jab, though if Ollie was being honest, he was deviously pleased that for once Will had thrown one his way. Roasting each other was a hallmark of Will and Tom Papley’s friendship, or the ‘bromance’ as the Sydney Swans media department was trying to drive home, and it’s not that Ollie was jealous, per se, but he did see that Will was different with him than he was with Tom. So if Will taking jabs at Ollie meant he was opening the door for Ollie to take that place in Will’s life, he’d take it. 

Little did Ollie know that his insecurities about their friendship were for naught. There was no doubt in Will’s mind that Ollie was his best mate, his closest mate, and his most trusted mate. They were drafted together, they won their first games together, and they just re-signed contracts to the Swans together. Will couldn’t fathom being at the Swans without Ollie. For all the times he and Tom had spent together, laughing and taking the piss and agreeing to do crazy shit for the club’s media department, Ollie was his stable, grounding presence, the thing that most reminded him of home, which was weird because he was from Adelaide and Ollie was from Melbourne, and they’d never met before they were both in the same group at the draft combine in October of 2016. But Ollie was the familiar face he knew when he turned up day one at the Swans after being drafted, and it was the face he’d seen nearly every day since.  
He was upset Tom was leaving. It was like a big slice of fun was being carved out of the heart of the playing group, but it wouldn’t change Will. He still needed to be laughing, smiling, joking his way through life as a footballer, and that would be the case with or without Tom. 

The taxi finally pulled up at the front of their villa. Ollie managed to un-stick Ben’s head from his shoulder, enough to use both arms to gently slap the blacked-out Ben on the cheek, and help guide him out of the car onto his own two feet. He stood upright, his eyes heavily-lidded and glassy, and Ollie just looked him in the eye as if he were a coach.  
“You’re alright, c’mon,” and he managed to just catch Ben before he fell to the curb and caused himself a serious injury, a professional athlete’s worst nightmare, before they made their way to their villa. Will flicked through the notes in his wallet to give to the taxi driver, before they both linked one of Ben’s arms around their shoulders and carried him inside through the front door.  
“FuUUuck it’s cold,” Ben slurred loudly once they stepped foot inside the mostly-concrete and marble villa, air-conditioner on full blast from when they were pre-gaming earlier in the heat of the Spanish afternoon.  
“Sssshh, fuck, the Toms are asleep!” Will whispered to Ben, referring to Papley and Tommy McCartin who had pussied out at a lousy 1am to hit the hay. At least Ryan Clarke had the excuse of having a 7am flight to Amsterdam to attend to. The villa was pitch black, save for the flashing lights of the air-conditioning system, the plasma screen mounted on the wall and the lights of the fridge and microwave in the little Greek-styled kitchen. Will fumbled in the dark looking for the light switch, leaving Ollie patiently waiting and holding Ben up, one hand placed on Ben’s sweaty lower back, the fact he could feel the moisture emanating through Ben’s T-shirt didn’t bother him. He’d seen worse, and most importantly, his mate needed him.  
Trips with the footy boys were different to any other trips he’d taken with his old school mates. There was an added layer of protection and responsibility, because they all knew they had to rely on each other to keep each other safe and out of trouble, and they’d all feel the ramifications if they failed. So as drunk as Ollie was, to the point he could barely hold himself up and he thought the pitch-black room was spinning slightly, his main priority was getting Ben safely to his bed. And then getting his own drunk ass to bed ASAP.

He heard the sound of glass smashing on the tiles, followed by a, “Fuck!” Ollie rolled his eyes, reached back into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flicking on the spotlight and suddenly illuminating the entire spacious entry hallway. Just coming into the light was the sight of Will, on hands and knees, picking up his phone, checking his screen to make sure there were no cracks, and blowing off the dust from the floor.  
“You are such a fuckhead hey,” Ollie whispered while chuckling.  
“Shut up!” Will hissed as vocally as he could given their whispers. Ollie used his phone light to turn the actual light for the hallway on, and then put both hands on Ben’s shoulders and marched him up towards the staircase to the bedrooms. Unfortunately, the first room up in the hallway belonged to Ollie, and in his drunken stupour, Ben charged towards the door and just burst in. 

“No-no-no-no-no-no, not yours mate, fuck – Ronks hold on, fuck you’re so heavy for a midget,” Ollie whispered in frustration, trying to pull Ben back towards the doorway and back out into the hall. But the momentum of a blacked-out drunk who basically turned to dead-weight was pretty difficult to stop, especially once he was in see-bed-dive-on-bed mode. Ollie just rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew he was beat. Ben wouldn’t be moving now that he was splattered across the top of Ollie’s bed like he’d been hit by a car.  
Ollie just stormed out in a strop, back into the kitchen where a shirtless Will had discarded his tee onto the kitchen floor and was heating up two-minute noodles in the microwave.  
“Fuck sakes, Ronks is gone… on my bed,” Ollie grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so cooked hey,” he said smiling at his mate, his face and tone lifting instantly. Will loved that about Ollie, that ability to always turn a shitty mood into a positive on a dime. Will just stared at Ollie in a mixture of awe and intrigue. Maybe he was extra fucked and didn’t wanna get too deep, but Ollie really was such a good vibes type of mate. It was almost impossible to be sad or angry or stressed when around him. He was really just happy to be here in Ibiza with Ollie at this moment. 

Ollie, seemingly oblivious to Will’s lingering gaze, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and disappeared around the corner again. He re-emerged thirty seconds later with a gigantic white quilt slung over his shoulder, his shirt, too, now gone, in just his charcoal denim shorts, not even held up by a belt anymore. Will noticed Ollie was neither frustrated nor drunk. He just looked… peaceful. And not many people had that quality. His mate had just passed out on his single bed, and he was now setting up bed on the leather couch in the living area, and he was just so unaffected by it. For a baby-faced guy who lacked any real book smarts, Ollie’s maturity really was beyond his years, but Will needed to snap out of it. Why was his mind so curious about his mate right now? It’s not like he never knew any of these things about Ollie!  
“What are y’doing?” Will said, mouth full of strings of sickly-yellow noodles.  
“Just gonna sleep on the couch,” Ollie said nonchalantly, hurling the heavy quilt down onto the couch and arranging the pillows to his satisfaction.  
“Nah, no chance,” Will muttered assertively, surprising Ollie into looking his way. “No chance.”  
“I don’t mind hey, just for one night, this couch is comfy as fuck anyway,” Ollie replied, too drunk to deal with Will’s drunkenness, because he almost certainly knew that if Will was sober he wouldn’t be making a deal out of the prospect of someone sleeping on the couch. Will himself had done it many times when he’d had too much to drink at Ollie’s place in Sydney.  
“M’serious, it’s cold as out here, you’ll get, like, new, ahhhh neu-phoria, uh,” Will just gave up on what he was saying mid-sentence to shove another huge spoonful of noodles into his mouth. Ollie just burst into laughter, his face scrunching up and doing that squinty thing with his eyes. It got Will’s attention, because no one’s whole face lit up when they laughed quite like Ollie’s did.  
“Pneumonia, you dickhead, and it’s not my fault you left the air-con on today,” Ollie said after he finally collected himself, but Will was totally serious. He was so pissed he seemed to be focused on nothing except his noodles, and making sure Ollie did not settle for sleeping on the couch.  
“Just sleep in mine, it’s a king’s remember,” Will said, flashing Ollie a cheeky wink, reminding Ollie of the successful game of rock, paper, scissors that led to Will getting the room with the king-sized bed. And if Ollie was honest, that was a hard offer to refuse. It really was freezing cold out here – they’d officially succeeded in turning the villa into an icebox, and he was so drunk he wanted nothing more than to melt into a pile of comfy sheets and a spongy mattress. He didn’t even need to give a spoken acceptance of Will’s offer. He didn’t bother picking up the big quilt, that was a problem for the morning, just left it on the couch and turned to head to Will’s room, giving his mate a nod on the way out.  
“I’ll be up soon,” Will said, finishing his noodles, humming a random tune he’d had stuck in his head the entire trip and kicking his feet back and forth with contentment. 

When Ollie walked into Will’s room, the first thing he noticed is that, despite it being just their second night there, the room smelt distinctly… Will. He couldn’t describe what that was exactly, but he’d spent enough time with Will to know what his scent was. He walked over to the bedside table, where he got his official answer: Guess. ‘Typical’, Ollie thought to himself. Will was nothing if not driven by his designer labels. If Ronks was the lightweight, and Ollie was the mama’s boy, then Will was the uptown boy of the bunch. Ollie sprayed a touch on himself out of curiosity, and immediately regretted it as he felt light-headed and dizzy, crouching down onto the bed. Maybe it was the exhaustion of their big day of walking and drinking and partying, but as soon as Ollie made contact with the mattress, it was like it was hugging him, enveloping him in it’s comfort and inviting him to sink into it. And that he did. In nothing but his denim shorts, he rolled over to the far side to save room for his mate who the bed actually belonged to, and then turned his phone off, consuming the room in darkness, save for the crack of light in the door from where Will was in the kitchen.

Ten minutes later and Ollie was almost asleep, eyes so heavy and his head still spinning the more sleepy he grew. He heard the creak of the door, and Will crept in, trying to be discrete, Ollie could tell by the way he was tip-toeing on the floor.  
“M’still awake, you don’t have to be quiet,” Ollie mumbled, but didn’t bother turning around, implying Will was not to disturb him or do anything that would jeopardise his sleep. Will slid his shorts down by the waistband so he was in nothing but a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs, readjusting his package as he did so. He noticed Ollie was still in those denim shorts, which Will found absurd.  
“Dude, I don’t care if you sleep in ya jocks, doesn’t bother me.” The remark startled Ollie into rolling over and facing Will with widened eyes, despite his sleepy state. “Y’know, jus’ saying, fuck denim when you’re trying to sleep..” Will was becoming flushed on the spot, so he was thankful it was dark and Ollie couldn’t see anything except a blurry silhouette of Will preparing to join him in the bed.  
“Yeah, true,” Ollie said, and he had to admit, he was getting a slight irritation on the insides of his thighs from the denim rubbing against each other as he tried to lay there and get to sleep. So he popped the button on the shorts, zipped down the fly, shucked them down his legs, and threw them across Will’s body until he heard them flop onto the floor, probably right alongside Will’s. He was so wasted he couldn’t even remember what underwear he had on, and the lack of lighting was doing him no favours there, so he just hoped they weren’t an embarrassing pair that he usually saves for quiet nights in at his place in Sydney or his family home in Melbourne.  
“Night bro,” Will said, breaking the awkward silence after Ollie had stripped down.  
“Night Wilba.” 

Will woke when he felt the arm creeping around his ribs, up towards his chest and almost trying to clutch at his pecs. His initial thought was that he was being attacked, before he quickly remembered that it was just Ollie in the bed. Typical needy Ollie, he thought to himself. He was used to Ollie’s PDAs by now, be it with his girlfriend, or his mates. Even a dog sitting at the local café in Bondi he’d feel compelled to give a hug. The guy had a lot of love to give, and given everything that had happened with his father passing when Ollie was only eighteen, it just made Will and all the rest of his mates want to be there for their mate as much as they could. If that meant letting him drunkenly spoon him, then so be it.  
Will reached his hand back to pat Ollie on the arm, half as a sign of his approval of this spontaneous spooning session, and half in the hopes that he might wake the guy up and he could go back to sleep. When his palm came into contact with Ollie’s arm, he instantly felt the goosebumps covering every inch of Ollie’s olive-toned skin, then he became aware of Ollie’s slight shivering through his heavy breathing. And it hit Will: Ollie didn’t want no damn affection – he was freezing cold! Will felt like an idiot, even contemplating letting his mate spoon him when the solution was as simple as getting another blanket. As he tried to nudge Ollie’s arm out from around his torso in an effort to get out of bed and find a blanket, he was startled by Ollie pulling him back into his body heat out of reflex. Ollie was deceptively strong as he held Will in place subconsciously. Now Will was just getting flat-out annoyed. He wanted to go to sleep, and he also wanted to get Ollie another blanket, but he couldn’t do that if he was being held captive as the little spoon!

“Oi, Ol” Will whispered, garnering a slight exhale from the sleeping drunk lad. “OI, OL!” Will grunted much louder a second time, jolting Ollie out of his slumber. As Will held up his phone light in Ollie’s face to wake him up, he could see Ollie’s caramel eyes adjusting to the light, blinking rapidly as he licked his dry lips and looked around in confusion.  
“Wha –“ is all Ollie could get out, before Will interrupted.  
“You’re freezing dude, d’ya want another blanket?” All Ollie could do was rub his eyes, still so out of it and not really caring that he was cold because he was so comfortable feeling the body heat of his team-mate against him. Will took that as an affirmative, and began to unpeel himself from Ollie’s limbs, before his head started spinning and he realised just how drunk he himself was. His head crashed back down on the pillow as he groaned in frustration, and Ollie seized his moment. He curled his leg back around Will’s calf, and returned his arm around Will’s body, locking him in place again as Will succumbed further to the realisation that he was more drunk than he thought – too drunk to get out of this bed at this moment in time.  
“Jus’ stay here bro,” Ollie said. “I’m fine here.”  
And Will was glad Ollie was fine here. Because Will was feeling dizzy, feeling the oncoming persperation, a mixture of cold sweats, drunken humidity and embarrassment from his current predicament. Then he felt Ollie’s hips subconsciously grind into Will, no doubt not even realising what he was doing. Hell, Ollie was so drunk he probably thought Will was his girlfriend and they were back in Sydney in bed like they would be every other night. But the uncomfortable feeling of another guy’s crotch pressing against Will was the final straw. He quickly flinched away, rolled over so he was facing Ollie, then grabbed Ollie’s shoulders and manhandled him into turning over so they were spooning again but facing the opposite direction, this time with Ollie as the little spoon and Will with his limbs locking Ollie in place.  
“If we’re gonna do this, no way in Hell am I the little spoon asshole,” Will whispered in Ollie’s ear, not fully comprehending just how close he was to Ollie that his lips were caressing Ollie’s ear. Ollie shuddered as he felt his mate’s warm breath against his ear, and it was weirdly calming. Calming enough that Ollie thought this would be a perfectly fine way to get back to sleep, so he shut his eyes, relaxed into his pillow, and prepared to sleep that dizzy, drunk blur in his mind away.

And then he felt it. Both boys felt it. The twitch of Will’s cock, pressed right up against Ollie’s thick bubble butt. Total silence fell over the room. Neither of them could see each other, but they both had their eyes wide open, Ollie staring into the darkness in total disbelief, Will cringing with embarrassment. It remained silence until his cock twitched again, a furious blush coming over Will’s cheeks, and this time it twitched repeatedly, throbbing at the contact of an arse resting against it, even if it was the arse of his taken, very-much-straight mate.  
“Fuck,” Will muttered breathlessly, not really sure what else to say yet it seemed to sum up everything he was feeling in this exact moment. Drunk, horny, embarrassed, uncomfortable, weirded out. “I’mma turn over now,” he said jokingly, trying to alleviate the tension in the room with some humour, and he felt Ollie’s face break out into that cheesy smile without even being able to see it.  
‘Phew, crisis averted’, Will thought to himself when he confirmed that Ollie was giggling at Will’s awkwardness – he knew he would be roasted for this at future nights out. He was about to casually roll over away from Ollie and forget this mess ever happened, when he felt Ollie’s arm reach back, awkwardly clutch at Will’s lower back, not only keeping him where he was but actually pressing him further into Ollie’s own back.  
“What are you doing mate,” Will said seriously now, legitimately confused by Ollie’s behaviour.  
“M’cold,” was all Ollie mumbled in response. But it did little to quell Will’s arousal. He hadn’t had any in weeks, and being overseas, where they were encountering loads of hot girls every day, plying themselves with enough alcohol to fill a brewery, was only increasing his desire to get off. Will knew Ollie was manipulating him into spooning him because he was cold, and he knew he couldn’t get out of bed or he’d probably tumble onto the ground he was so drunk himself, so he knew he was stuck here. It was just a matter of what he was going to get out of it for himself.

He experimentally thrust his hips forward in time with his cock throbbing yet again, almost testing the waters to see what response he’d get from Ollie. He got nothing. He thrust again, this time with purpose, aiming his crotch at Ollie’s arse directly. Still no response.  
“You awake?” Will whispered.  
“Yeah,” came the single word reply instantly. Was Ollie okay with this? It seemed too good to be true for Will to have a willing arse he could sit here and rut against to his total satisfaction, even if the arse belonged to his best mate he had zero attraction to. Just thinking about it was enough to have Will impulsively thrusting against his hapless mate, who gasped sharply in surprise but again, did not protest. The less resistance he got from Ollie, the more confidence Will got. He now had the upper hand. Quite literally, in fact, as he pressed his hand deeper into the slightly furry chest of Ollie, holding him in place as he book-ended the smaller lad. Once he felt Ollie’s body was basically under his control, he began thrusting with more purpose and authority; lifting his hips off the mattress to actually drive into the curve of Ollie’s backside.  
“Oh, shit, ow – Wilba, fuck” Ollie was muttering as he tried to comprehend what exactly Will was doing, and why he was letting it happen with such ease and nonchalance.  
“Just – just go with it,” Will said. “I’ll stop soon.”  
Ollie didn’t know why he couldn’t stop right now, as why the fuck would Will want to sit here and rut off against his best mate? That sure as hell wasn’t on the top of Ollie’s bucket list. And yet he was compelled by Will’s movement, by the hand pressing firmly into his chest, holding him in place and establishing the unspoken ground rules that Ollie was to just take it. 

It felt distinctly different to Ollie when he noticed Will was hard. It was an unmistakable feeling he himself was familiar with from all the times he’d dry humped his girlfriend with a rock hard cock inside his shorts. Only this time the feeling was even more direct, as Will was in nothing but a pair of tight whities, and the rock hard cock was pressing against his own arse. He clenched his arse-cheeks instinctively, wanting to deter Will’s hungry cock, and in his own way, trying to difuse this situation before it got any more out of hand. Because they were both very drunk, and Ollie thinks even stapling his skin would feel good in his present state of light-headedness. And god, the contact felt good.  
Once he was satisfied Ollie wasn’t going anywhere, Will slid his hand from Ollie’s chest, down to his abs, his fingers playing with the smaller man’s treasure trail before his hand almost drifted over the bulge in Ollie’s underwear. He had the sense to avoid it, because, just, no. He did not want anything to do with Ollie’s cock, which he roasted him for on a regular basis in the changerooms because of it’s below average size (were Ollie not the first to bring it up, he wouldn’t dare make torment him over it.)  
He rested his hand on the curve of Ollie’s hip, where his waist met his arse, and in this moment, feeling Ollie laying still and willing while Will basically used him as a rag-doll, he felt enormous love for his mate. Nothing romantic of course, but just the love of a brother. He knew he’d be in Ollie’s life forever, and vice versa. They’d be at each other’s weddings, their kids would grow up together, they’ll attend Swans reunions together. As his mind was flooded with this sudden sentimental appreciation for his mate, Will had no control over his body as he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss on Ollie’s neck. 

Ollie shivered again, and that response alone only made Will want to do it again, so he pressed his lips in the same spot, and this time stayed there. He savoured the feeling of embrace he was hopefully giving his mate, his drunken state allowing him to ignore the salty sweat that had gathered in the crease in Ollie’s neck.  
“Fu-fuuuuck, Wilba,” Ollie was muttering in a daze, his free hand scrambling back to try and grasp Will’s hair behind him, struggling to catch his breath and form a proper sentence. “What are we doing, ughhhh,” Ollie sighed.  
“Just, fuck, I dunno mate,” Will spoke into Ollie’s neck, his cheek now resting against Ollie’s skin. They’d never been this close before. If both were being honest they’d never been this close with any guy before. It was totally new territory and that scared Ollie, and that fear aroused Ollie, and that fear within Ollie gave Will adrenaline, and that adrenaline was pulsating through his veins as he continued to thrust into Ollie, using his hip muscles to create a steady rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of two young guys gasping and panting and groaning and moaning and grunting, and the sounds of skin on skin as their thighs slapped against each other, and the sounds of hands running smoothly over the plains of each other’s bodies. 

But it wasn’t enough. Well, not for Will. Ollie was overwhelmed, lost in the unexpected pleasure mixed with confusion and embarrassment. But Will just wanted more. He craved actual contact – his cock thrusting against bare skin, he wanted to cover that skin with his come like he would at home with his girlfriend, when he’d pull out of her arse and release all over her lower back.  
He decided in that moment that while far from ideal, Ollie would suffice as a girlfriend substitute. Even he could admit that Ollie had the arse to make a damn fine girl. Will halted his grinding movements to run a soothing hand over the wide expanse of Ollie’s arse cheeks. Thick and plump but muscular, two solid globes that Will could actually see his cock thrusting between now that he thought about it. Without thinking, his nails dug into the waistband of Ollie’s underwear, pulling them down quickly, without asking Ollie’s permission, who grunted and winced in shock and a bit of pain as Will didn’t really know how rough he was being with his mate.  
“I wanna feel – feel your skin, c’mon, help – I need to feel it,” Will was spewing word vomit that Ollie couldn’t understand, nor did he want to, he just remained pliant, able to be used however Will needed to use him in this moment. Without Ollie’s assistance it was a struggle, but Will finally got Ollie’s briefs down to his mid-thighs, enough that when Will ran his hand down Ollie’s butt cheek, he felt everything: the warm skin that had been confined in his sweaty briefs all day, the light hairs scattered across the globes, the heat and sweat as he ran his finger down the crease of Ollie’s crack, immediately pausing once he felt the thicker hair resting there that made him realise just what he was doing.  
“Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said all of a sudden, breaking the relative silence, save for Ollie’s heavy breathing in anticipation and bewilderment.  
“I know, it’s – fuck,” was all Ollie could get out.  
“We don’t talk about this to anyone, okay?” Will said more sternly now, breaking out of his desperation act momentarily to bring a much-needed dose of reality to this situation. He didn’t need to see or hear anything from Ollie – the simple nod he felt from the lad he was spooning was enough to know that this was a one-off, that would never be spoken of again, and that most importantly would never damage their friendship.

Will tried to censor the word ‘friendship’ in his mind as he resumed his thrusting, sinking into the amazing feeling of his raging boner pressing against the warm, sweaty crevice of Ollie’s ass crack. The word only reminded him of how wrong this was. No, wrong wasn’t even the right word to explain this. How fucking insane this was. But what happens on a Euro trip stays on a Euro trip, so he reached down to grab his cock and direct it to Ollie’s crack. All Will had to go on by way of illumination was his iPhone’s spotlight app. He shone the light down towards Ollie’s arse to give himself a better sense of direction, and he was in a trance as he caught his first proper glance at his mate’s ass. How hairy it was, brown hairs covering his crack from top to bottom, nestling at the base of his balls, and swirling with moisture around a virginal pink hole. It was not attractive to Will. Not even remotely appealing. It should’ve been enough to deter him from going anywhere near it.  
Yet he pointed his cock between those cheeks, and moaned as he swiped his cock up and down the crack in one fell swoop, losing his breath at the feeling of the sensitive tip of his cock sliding against the sweaty hairs of Ollie’s crack, catching on the tight furl of his mate’s hole.  
Ollie stills at the contact, suddenly overcome with a feeling of self-consciousness. No one had ever looked at or felt his arse like that. It was by far his most sensitive, intimate area. He’d always wanted his girlfriend to play with it, maybe a tongue in his hole during a blowjob, but that’s about it. Yet here was a cock – the cock of his best mate – teasing it and threatening to go beyond teasing. He didn’t know how Will would react to it, until he heard Will’s voice break the silence.  
“Fuck, that feels so good ay.”  
And it was music to Ollie’s ears.

He pushed his arse back to meet Will’s cock, forcing a more pressing contact between his rim and the cock desperate to fill a hole.  
“Y’know, if you were a chick right now I’d be fucking you,” Will said teasingly, again trying to bring some levity to this truly bizarre situation both boys found themselves in. Ollie just chuckled, relaxing a little, before replying, “Yeah I know.”  
And if Will was honest, he started envisioning it. Fucking Ollie. Pretending he was a girl. Would his hole be warm with velvetty walls inside like a chick? Would his hole clench around his cock and pulse when he was coming like his girlfriend’s? Would Ollie moan and want to be kissed and have someone breath into his mouth and lick his tongue so it was wet and messy and sloppy? Or would he maybe wanna be choked, or have his nipples pulled or his ear bit while he was being pounded into?  
All these thoughts ran through Will’s mind as he picked up the pace, hand holding Ollie’s left arse cheek spread open so he could rut his cock against all of Ollie’s crack, cock still teasing the tight little hole, the slick and sweat from his taint providing plenty of lubrication for Will to continue grinding relentlessly.  
He was so out of breath, and beads of sweat were dripping from his face onto Ollie’s chin and neck, barely even registering with the boy below who was still so drunk and now so high from the new and exciting and foreign pleasure of a cock thrusting against him. “Oh shit,” Will uttered as he felt that familiar tingle in his stomach, “I’m gonna come Ol, fuck”, and Ollie, for the first time, tilted his head back to look at Will, their eyes meeting and they didn’t even need to say a word to know they were sharing the same thought. They’d knocked down so many barriers of their friendship in this one night, given themselves to the pleasure of it all and the sense of unfamiliarity and adventure, but they hadn’t thought about this part. Would coming make this suddenly that much more gay, and therefore that much more difficult to dismiss as one night of delerium?

But as Will was going through these motions, he noticed Ollie’s face change, and Ollie simply stared into his eyes, and nodded, turning back over and resuming his pliant position. That look alone – that look of compliance and willingness and even submission – was enough to make Will lose total control. His thrusts became sloppy, his cock not even capable of keeping up a consistent rhythm against Ollie’s crack, and every muscle in his body seemingly clenched before he released, cock spasming.  
“Fuck mate, I’m sorry, I’m coming, fuck!”  
Ollie squeezed his eyes shut, cringing as he prepared for the inevitable, unsure of what to expect. Then he felt a warm, gooey pelt against his crack, like soft darts of come splattering the most private and untouched part of his body. Rope after rope shot out of Will’s cock and fell against Ollie’s arse, a few landing at the top of his crack and dripping their way down, a few landing on his firm cheeks in little puddles, and one giant rope burst out and landed directly on Ollie’s hole, making both boys moan simultaneously, one at the sight of it, the other at the feeling.  
“Shit!” Will heaved out, panting heavily, body shaking as he continued to milk his now-softening cock of every drop of come. Ollie lay there, still and silent, save for some trembling which he couldn’t even explain. As Will looked down at his mate, and shone his phone light down towards Ollie’s arse, it finally dawned on him just what they had done. As he saw the strings of milky white come pooling all over Ollie’s crack, he moaned at the sight. It was undeniably hot, seeing his come soaking the hairs around Ollie’s crack, oozing into his tight hole and forming a little pool in the rim. 

“Fuck, it looks just like a pussy mate,” Will said curiously, Ollie cringing at the searing humiliation of such a statement. He knew Will didn’t mean it in that way, this was just as mind-blowing for Will as it was for him. The longer Will stared at it in total fascination, the more removed he became from the reality that it was his mate’s hairy ass that he was staring at. So lost in the intrigue and sensation of it all was he, that he had no hesitance to bring his finger forward, musing aloud, “I wonder if I could – oh!” And then it all happened in a blur. His finger was just experimentally pressing against Ollie’s tight, wet hole, and then his finger was plunging forward, sinking deep into Ollie’s warm tunnel all the way up to the third knuckle of his index finger. Ollie shrieked a feminine scream, and it startled Will, who withdrew his finger almost all the way out until only the tip remained inside Ollie.  
“Sssshh,” Will whispered as he leant down and breathed against Ollie’s ear. “There’s a house full of boys remember?” All Ollie could do was nod restlessly. “D’you wanna wrap this up?” Will was serious. He would end this right here, right now, roll over and go to sleep – he was knackered after his orgasm and it might be best for Ollie in his current state too. But Ollie didn’t say yes. He didn’t say no, either, but he continued to writhe against Will’s body, seemingly chasing the teasing contact the tip of Will’s finger was giving him inside his hole. 

Will just smirked, knowing that was further material he could potentially take the piss out of Ollie for in the future (although him coming in five minutes just from rutting against his mate like a sixteen year old boy would probably be the reciprocation.) He wanted to give Ollie a semblance of the pleasure he had given him, so he plunged his finger deep into Ollie again, drawing a moan from the tanned lad who had never experienced anything like it before. Will, out of instinct more than any sort of logic, quickly added a second finger into Ollie’s hole and was surprised by how easily it welcomed the added burn. Then he remembered he’d covered Ollie’s hairy crack in come, so he had plenty of natural lubrication, and the thought of pumping his own come into his best mate had Will’s cock twitching back to life between his legs. He scissored his fingers with a look of concentration, amazed at the feeling of Ollie’s hole stretching open, loosening around his fingers with each sideways thrust, hooking his fingers left and right within the boy, no idea what he was doing but figuring it out along the way and loving the reaction each experimental move of his fingers would do to Ollie.  
He wondered if it was possible to turn Ollie on any more than he already appeared to be. He withdrew the two digits inside of Ollie, swiping them up and down Ollie’s crack, collecting the remnants of warm come that were smeared across all the hairs, and returned them to his hole, this time with a third finger in the mix, stretching Ollie’s hole impossibly wide to what he’d imagined possible. With three fingers driving into Ollie, it allowed Will to penetrate him deeper, the three fingers sinking so far into Ollie that his hand was pressed against his taint, his thumb rubbing circles on his tight balls.

Ollie, who up to this point had been silent, biting his lip to try and stifle the surreal pleasure he’d been experiencing, could no longer be the silent partner. At the deeper penetration and added stretch, his mouth fell open, a guttural moan, hoarse and broken and strained but also euphoric, fell from his lips. “Fuck, Wilba, I need more,” came the desperate plea.  
“You like that don’t you Ol,” Will taunted, tongue sticking out. He leant down so his cheek was pressed against Ollie’s. “Say it, say how much you like it, c’mon, no judgments here. We won’t talk about this again, remember?”  
And fuck, if Will wasn’t being antagonistic, but Ollie was so caught up in the pleasure he really didn’t care. “Yesss I fuckin’ like it, dickhead, keep going!” Will just giggled, but obliged, spreading his fingers open within Ollie and probing inside his anus, only stopping once he thrust his fingers into a little nub deep within his arse that made Ollie still completely.  
“FUCK!” Ollie yelled, and Will was too curious to even care that they were now making a racket. He curiously thrust his fingers into that same spot again, and Ollie’s whole body shook, his breath catching in his throat as his mouth fell open but nothing came out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit Will, do that again,” Ollie panted. And who was Will to say no to that? He thrust his fingers again, this time building into a pattern, repeatedly hitting Ollie’s prostate and making the boy’s cock twitch with each movement.

Wanting to compound this pleasure for his mate, Will lifted Ollie’s leg in the air, still on his side but now with more room to work his fingers deep inside his hole. The new position gave him exactly what he wanted – he was now fucking into Ollie with intent, his hand rapidly thrusting in and out of the boy whose hole had previously never been touched, yet here he was, sloppy and open, wet with nothing but his best mate’s come as lube.  
“Shiii–iii–iii-tttt,” Ollie tried to get out, stuttering into syllables with each thrust of Will’s fingers. It was supposed to be a warning, but Ollie was so taken aback by the overwhelming and unexpected urge to come that he didn’t have time. His cock, flopping around with each upward thrust of Will’s fingers, neglected and untouched all night, simply pulsed and exploded with three small ropes of come. The first two shot out and landed on his tanned, chiseled abs, while the third dribbled out of the tip and down the shaft. Ollie didn’t know it was possible to come without your cock being touched, nor did Will if his stunned silence and awe was any indication. He wrapped his hand around his cock, collecting the come that had dripped down and used it as lube to stroke his cock and bring it to life. It was an outer-body experience to be stroking his flaccid cock mid-orgasm, but he was able to milk a fourth string of come from his cock, falling onto his hand.

That would normally gross him out, but as he felt Will’s fingers creating a squelching sound as they remained inside him, and the come drying and becoming sticky all inside his ass crack, he realised a bit of come on his hand was really not so bad. He don’t know what possessed him to do it, but he felt he had to get one back on Will, so he reached his hand up to Will’s face and said, “Here.”  
Will just grimaced, but he understood Ollie’s perspective, and reluctantly stuck his tongue out to lick up the come from Ollie’s hand. His face twisted as he struggled with the salty come of his best mate, but he swallowed, and even stuck his tongue out to prove it, earning an exhausted laugh from Ollie.  
“Fuck, that’s rank,” Will said, and if that wasn’t a sign that the fun was over, Ollie didn’t know what was. He rolled over onto his front, allowing Will to awkwardly nudge his fingers until they slid out of him. He tried to subtlely catch a longer glimpse at Ollie’s hole clenching and quivering around nothing, still needing to be filled, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his mate would be trying to replicate the pleasure Will had given him tonight when he was by himself, behind closed doors. Then the thought made him cringe, and he realised that if he hadn’t made a mistake tonight – it was fun, and they both got a much-needed release, after all – then he’d definitely done something he would not want to do again, that’s for sure.

Forgetting how drunk he was, Will clambered out of bed, stumbling a little and trying to regain his balance as Ollie gave a hearty laugh at his idiot mate. Then he disappeared, leaving Ollie laying in bed, naked, save for the briefs bunched around his thighs, skin sticky with sweat, arse sticky with drying come, a slight burning sensation between his ass cheeks. He ran a finger down between his legs, out of curiosity more than anything, and just the tip of his finger coming into contact with the slightly puffy and swollen and sensitive rim of his hole was enough to convince him it was a bad idea. When Will came back with a wet flannel, he handed it to Ollie, and said, “Don’t worry it won’t hurt for long”, as if he could sense Ollie’s pain and uncertainty.  
“How the fuck do you know that, sicko?” Ollie said with his signature smile, albeit a slightly faded version.  
“Done anal with the missus before. She got over it in like, a day,” Will said, facing away from Ollie as his mate reached down between his legs and gently wiped the wet flannel over his hole, and up and down his crack, wincing from the sensitivity.  
“Fuck that, tomorrow’s Elements, I spent $200 on tickets for that event, I’m not missing it ‘cause of this.”  
Will just cackled with laughter, and eventually Ollie’s frustration at the short-sightedness of this night of experimentation made himself laugh too. “Stupidity is infectious ay”, and Will just nodded knowingly.  
“Maybe that should be your new Insta bio,” Will replied.  
“How about ‘this night never happened’, how’s that for an Insta bio?” Ollie said grinning wide, his full vibrant smile returning as he pulled his briefs back up and threw the flannel across the room, landing on the floor.  
“Deal,” Will said, and the boys cracked up laughing as Will reached over and switched the lights off, immersing them in darkness with nothing but the sound of laughter filling the room.

\- - - - - 

Ollie awoke to unmistakable smell of bacon. The bed was empty, and he could see the divot in the mattress where Will had obviously slept. He wasn’t so much as horrified by the previous night’s events as he was dumbfounded that they happened, confused that a part of him that would allow that to happen obviously existed within him all along. Then came the guilt, that he’d effectively cheated on his girlfriend, with his best mate, no less. And then, oh God, it was his best mate. And then he heard muffled shouting and laughter coming from the kitchen, and remembered there was a house full of boys, and Will probably told at least one of them, and if he didn’t, they probably heard it all. How the fuck did he allow this to happen?  
He slowly got dressed into his swim shorts, and headed down into the kitchen. Tom McCartin had his headphones on, listening to tunes as he dove into a bowl of cereal, barely acknowledging Ollie’s appearance; Ben Ronke had his head down on the bench, struggling from a hangover no doubt after his drunken ass only made it home because of Ollie and Will. And then there was Will, cooking bacon and eggs at the stove beside Tom Papley. Of course, beside Tom Papley, Ollie thought.

“Hey boys,” he said nervously. Ben sluggishly looked up and greeted Ollie with a half-baked smile; McCartin, blaring Fleetwood Mac, remained oblivious to Ollie’s greeting; Paps simply asked, “D’you want your eggs fried or scrambled Floz?” And Will simply looked over his shoulder, and smiled. He didn’t need to say anything. It was a smile that was simply reassuring. That they had nothing to worry about. They’d shared a special night. Weird as fuck, yes. But special. They’d take it to their grave, but remember it for what it was. That’s what the smile said.  
And then Will said, “Oh he probably doesn’t want any, he’s all filled up aren’t ya?” And Ollie just rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. Fucking Wilba...


End file.
